


The Chronicles of Red and Ginger

by fuwacchi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwacchi/pseuds/fuwacchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated AkaFuri drabbles and ficlets.</p><p>Chapter 15:</p><blockquote>
  <p>It hurt watching his self-proclaimed older brother and Furihata be so loving towards each other, yet not being able to be a part of it.</p>
</blockquote><br/>Chapter 16:<blockquote>
  <p>They were kicked out of the cafe for their explicit display of affections, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. beautiful;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted as a submission to BPS' otp battle on tumblr.
> 
> akashi meets a peculiar creature in the woods one day.

His foot had just touched the ground when he heard it. It was soft, barely reaching his ears, and for a moment Akashi thought he had imagined it. The boy, hardly a man, stood absolutely still as the wind picked up. His red hair gently fluttered and with eyes of ruby and gold he watched as the leaves spiralled into the clear blue sky. Straining his ears through the breeze, Akashi placed all his concentration on his surroundings, carefully picking up the sounds of squirrels a few metres away from him; the sounds of birds chirping; the rustling of trees; the barely concealed gushing of water in the distance; and—was that a song?

Curiosity getting the better of him, Akashi didn't hesitate to head in the direction of the voice, carefully manoeuvring through the bushes and trees, after turning back and bowing once towards the shrine above the hundreds of cobblestone steps. As he ventured further into the forest, the singing voice grew more distinct, though Akashi was still unable to make out the lyrics, and the sound of running water got louder. With each step, Akashi had to strain his heterochromatic eyes to make out his footing. The further he went into the forest, the larger the shadows the trees cast.

Briefly, the thought of turning back flitted about in his mind—he was barely able to see in front of him at that point—but he immediately dismissed the idea. Akashi was never one to give up after he'd made a decision, especially not for a reason such as being unable to see before him. He could still barely make out the outlines of trees and bushes ahead of him, and with a newfound resolve he firmly continued forward.

When he could clearly hear the song being sung, Akashi unknowingly fastened his pace, eager to encounter another man within the eerily dark woods. The song, he noted, was about humans being blessed by God and watched over by angels. Akashi rolled his eyes. He was not religious and, while he respected those who had their values and beliefs, he simply did not believe in something he could not see. If anything, he only followed the Japanese customs of visiting temples and shrines out of tradition, but not because he believed in God.

Akashi believed in free will and results. He made the decisions which led him to be who he was, and where he was today. _Definitely not because of the existence of an uncertain being such as God_ , he thought, peeved.

Shaking his head, he focused on the voice filling the forest. It was definitely a man’s voice, rather low but capable of reaching a higher pitch at certain notes. His singing definitely didn’t sound bad on the ears, but it wasn’t anything great either. If Akashi had to say, it sounded average; nothing praise-worthy, but something about it compelled him to continue trudging through the woods.

When he finally saw a small filter of light Akashi rushed towards it, only coming to a pause in his steps, blinded by the onslaught of brightness, when he reached a clearing. Blinking blearily, Akashi waited for his eyes to adjust—and when it did, his breath caught in his throat.

There was a miniature waterfall, maybe about four to six metres high, which flowed into a shallow pool before entering the downstream river. The translucent liquid in the pseudo-lake glittered in the sunlight, and reflected a yellow glow onto the man sitting on a broken, gigantic tree trunk that slightly extended over the pool. The man had his back turned towards the redhead, but Akashi could make out a carefree smile on the brunet's face when he shifted his position on the log. What caught Akashi's attention most, however, were the pure white feathers that protruded out of the man's back.

As the man continued to sing, unaware of Akashi's presence, the redhead noted the swarm of animals that surrounded the brunet despite his ordinary voice. All of them watched the—dare he say it?—angel from a distance by the trees, unwilling to step out from the shadows to bask in the sunlight and, in turn, the ethereal being's warmth. Akashi could relate, somewhat, as he stood rooted in his spot, watching the brunet sing, as a certain warmth filled his chest. When the brunet stuttered over a note, his eyebrows would furrow and the corner of his lips would downturn—but only for a moment, before he was singing again, his slight mishap not pulling him down. It was endearing, in a way, and Akashi couldn't help but be mesmerised by the angel who was singing so carefreely, bounded by nothing.

The moment was all too short, however.

A mere snap of a branch had the animals bouncing away in a hurry, and the angel immediately whipped his head to the source of the sound before coming into contact with ruby and gold. The redhead stared back into those hazel brown eyes filled with apprehension.

Akashi mentally cursed his carelessness. He was entranced, drawn in by the brunet, and he hadn't even known when he'd taken that step—but he did, and now the brunet had stood up on the trunk, his legs bent and wings ready for takeoff. Akashi didn't even have the chance to speak, his arm merely extended to reach out towards the angel, before he was pushed back by a strong gust of wind. In reflex, his arms immediately went up to protect his face and his feet planted itself firmly into the soil.

When the gust finally died down, Akashi gingerly retracted his arms. The clearing was empty; no birds, no animals, and definitely no angel in sight. He looked up into the clear skies and noted nothing but the clouds lazily floating by. His only companion was the sound of the waterfall pounding heavily into the pool of water below it.

He sighed, an immense sense of loss filling him at that moment.

From then on, Akashi would visit the same clearing in the middle of nowhere within that forest. He got lost his first time returning back; after all, Akashi had merely followed the angel's voice and had not taken note of where he had came from. After a few trips back and forth, though, he had memorised the route to the clearing.

However, not once had he encountered the angel again.

Until eight years later.

The brunet hadn't changed, not at all. He remained the same as he did many years ago when Akashi had first saw him, as if he hadn't aged a single year. Perhaps that was the case for ethereal beings, but that was something Akashi would ponder about at a later time.

This time, as the brunet sang the same song, positioned on the same broken tree trunk, Akashi carefully approached from behind, making certain not to step on another tree branch laying carelessly on the ground. When he was finally directly behind the brunet, it was already too late.

The angel turned when he noticed the shadow cast above him, only to squeak in surprise when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. Hestruggled against his attacker for a moment, only coming to a standstill when his supposed attacker loosened his hold and slid his hands down the brunet's arms before gently cupping his own pair of hands, as if the angel was a precious but fragile gem.

He looked up, and hazel brown eyes widened when they were met with the same ruby and gold from eight years ago. The boy he had met had grown into a fine young man, his baby fat was all gone, replaced by a sharp, angular face; his heterochromatic eyes had narrowed but were sharper than ever; and the bangs that used to cover those jewels were cut short.

Gulping, the angel stepped back, intending to get away from the other again. It did no good whenever angels came into direct contact with humans. Before he could slide his hands out of the other's grasp, however, a smooth, velvety voice distracted him.

"You're beautiful."

Head snapping back up, the brunet was caught off guard by the small smile on the redhead's face. More than that, however, he was mesmerised by the love overflowing in those jewels of ruby and gold. His breath caught in his throat, and the angel was unable to form a response. He simply did not understand how such an emotion could be directed towards him, much less from a stranger who had only met him once—twice, if he counted the current encounter.

But he need not have said anything.

Because before he could have processed a proper thought, a hand made its way through his locks of brown tresses and stroked them tenderly.

Akashi watched as the angel's face reddened in colour, nearly matching the shade of his vibrant red hair, and he chuckled in amusement. His eyes lingered on the other's lips for a moment, and Akashi was so very tempted to just lean in and have a taste of them—but he held back. It was much too soon for any action to have been taken, he decided, noting the slight apprehension and intimidation still present within those hazel brown eyes.

Together, they sat on the log and chatted away. Akashi made sure not to ask about anything too personal, seeing that Kouki—the angel's name, Akashi learnt—had not completely warmed up to him.

("Will you sing for me, Kouki?" A shy nod.)

But that was okay. He'd wait patiently for the other.

("Will you sing for me, Kouki?")

(A beaming smile. "Of course, Seijuurou.")

Akashi had time to spare anyway.


	2. clear;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted as a submission to BPS' otp battle on tumblr.
> 
> no matter how strongly you feel in your heart, it’s meaningless if you don’t convey them.

Furihata is a bad liar, Akashi learns over time. Whenever he lies, his expression tells Akashi all he needs to know: his eyes will dart to the side or he'll stare at his feet like it's the most interesting thing in the world, obviously in an attempt to avoid any form of eye-contact, and he'd chew on his lower lip in apparent nervousness. Sometimes Akashi lets it go, other times he confronts Furihata about it. Akashi can differentiate between the brunet's many lies; he won't question a lie told to surprise him, merely following along with Furihata (and he wouldn't admit it aloud but the surprises often left him feeling butterflies in his stomach), but Akashi absolutely _loathes_ it when his lover lies to hide his pain and/or worries.

His lover, Akashi deduces, is like an open-book. He doesn't even have to try to decipher the brunet's moods as Furihata wears his feelings on his sleeves. It's evident in the miniscule movements, from the way the corner of his lips twitches in an attempt to hide his amusement to the way a grin stretches widely across his face when he's overwhelmed with joy, and his eyes—oh God, his eyes.

They say the eyes are the window to one's soul. Akashi can't agree more.

Those hazel brown eyes leave nothing unsaid; they're extremely transparent when it comes to conveying their owner's feelings. Akashi doesn't think the brunet even needs words to express his thoughts.

"I know you know I love you," Furihata says, blinkingly confusedly at the redhead's sudden question. "But sometimes no matter how strongly you feel in your heart, it's meaningless if you don't convey them."

Akashi doesn't have long to ponder over his words as Furihata flashes him a breathtaking smile that leaves his heart racing faster and thumping louder than ever.

"Besides," he continues, "these feelings are too overwhelming I can't  _not_ convey them."

As much as Furihata is transparent to Akashi, the brunet too believes he can read his lover like an open-book. It's true he struggles to understand what goes through Akashi's mind, and he's given up trying in all honesty, but Furihata understands how meaningful each and every one of Akashi's actions are.

"I love you," Furihata confesses with a gentle smile, like he does every other night when they're snuggled together in bed.

And when Akashi leans in and kisses him tenderly on the lips, the brunet knows precisely what he means. Furihata doesn't need reassurances in the form of fancy words; after all, for Akashi Seijuurou, actions speak louder.

As such, Akashi's next action catches him off-guard.

"I love you too," he replies, for the first time.

Because sometimes it's necessary to convey these feelings out loud, Akashi realises with a start as he watches Furihata gape stupidly before turning a deep scarlet and hiding his face behind his hands. It takes a while to pry the fingers away, but once he does Akashi's eyes widen slightly at the sight of tears flowing freely down the brunet's cheeks—yet, there's a broad smile plastered there, threatening to split his face in half.

Maybe, Akashi thinks as he affectionately wipes away the tears, he should do this more often.


	3. rain;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [bree](http://breebreebreakdance.tumblr.com/). thank you for drawing yakuza akafuri for me!
> 
> akashi and furihata's first meeting is not at the winter cup.

Contrary to what others thought, the first time Akashi met Furihata Kouki was not the gathering before the Winter Cup. Furihata probably did not recall their first meeting, but Akashi definitely did.

It was during the summer of his second year in Teikou (when everything had still been fine; Aomine hadn't bloomed yet and everyone was still strongly bonded together, and most importantly Akashi had still enjoyed basketball). On his way back home from a late session of club practice, it had began to rain heavily. Startled by the sudden downpour, Akashi rushed to a nearby convenience store and took shelter there, intent on waiting for the rain to calm down.

When it showed no sign of stopping, Akashi had reluctantly resigned himself to rushing back home through the rain. He really didn't want to call his chauffeur to pick him up, not after having decided to live as an ordinary boy at the very least during school hours. Stepping out of the convenience store, Akashi observed as the rain hit the asphalt at a rhythmic pace. He resisted a shudder. Despite the stray, cool droplets hitting his skin, the summer heat did nothing to help the humidity.

He was about to step into the rain when the doors of the convenience store slid open again. Akashi moved to the side so as to not block the entrance, allowing a brunet boy about his height to come through. From his peripheral, Akashi watched as the brunet opened his umbrella and walked away. To his surprise, however, the boy paused on his spot for a moment before turning back around and approaching him.

"Um, excuse me," the brunet started, a tint of nervousness in his words. "Do you perhaps not have an umbrella?"

Akashi stared for a second before giving a quick nod in confirmation.

The boy rummaged through his backpack as he spoke. "O-oh, if that's the case, I have a spare if you'd like?" He held out a fold-up umbrella and flashed a brief smile.

Maybe it was something about the sincerity of that smile, or maybe he just didn't want to get wet - whatever the case, Akashi reached out his hand and grabbed onto that umbrella, thanking the other with a nod of his head. The brunet smiled again before turning and walking away, and Akashi watched him go.

When he was finally out of sight, Akashi stared at the umbrella in his hands. He was about to open it when his eyes caught sight of black ink on the wooden handle.

"Furihata Kouki..." he slowly read out, his thumb gently tracing over the characters.

With the black umbrella over his head, a safe shelter from the harsh downpour, Akashi stepped into the rain.

Perhaps it was because of this kindness, or maybe his strong sense of responsibility to return favours, but Akashi found himself, three years later in his second year of high school, approaching the same brunet who currently stood under a tree, pitifully trying to escape from the downpour and failing miserably.

"Furihata Kouki," Akashi called out, a familiar black umbrella in his hand. Furihata perked at his name, turning to look at the redhead.

"I believe I owe you a favour."

He extended a hand.

Confused, but _anything to get out of the rain_ , Furihata reached out and accepted that open palm - and in that cold, nothing was warmer than the hand in his.


	4. hands;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [yuka](http://yuka-liptus.tumblr.com/). happy belated birthday!
> 
> akashi has an unconscious habit.

Akashi had a habit of fidgeting with his hair, Furihata realised.

Furihata didn't believe the man himself was aware of it (which made it all the more amusing), but when he was lying on Akashi's lap after an exhausting day, or when he leant back against the frame of their bed playing his console while Akashi lied down on the bed reading a book, stray fingers would find themselves tangled in brown locks. He'd sneak a peek at the redhead from the corner of his eye, but Akashi always looked so engrossed in whatever he was doing, unaware of his actions.

Oh, but there was more, Furihata thought as he fought back a grin. It didn't just happen when they were idle, but more often than not this habit of Akashi's occurred mostly when the man himself was stressed. The redhead would unconsciously run his hand through brunette tresses as he pondered solutions to problems - obstacles that the Akashi Corporation must have been facing at the time, Furihata guessed - and it always delighted him to see Akashi's shoulders visibly relaxing from merely touching his hair. Perhaps it was his own ego speaking, but Furihata honestly felt proud to know he had such an effect on the Akashi Seijuurou.

"What are you grinning about?" a velvety voice cut through his thoughts. Ah, so he ended up grinning despite his efforts after all, Furihata thought bemusedly.

Turning towards the direction of the voice, mentally noting his tresses sliding through the gaps between fingers tangled in his hair, honey brown came into contact with ruby red. Unabashedly laughing out loud, Furihata replied in a sing-song voice, "Oh nothing."

From the way Akashi raised one of his brows, he knew the brunet was hiding something but didn't push - except the slight protrusion of his lips told Furihata all he needed to know: Akashi was sulking from not knowing something. Or more specifically, from the fact that his lover was hiding something from him.

Furihata bit on his lower lip, resisting the urge to laugh at the adorable sight; it would merely rouse Akashi further if he did. Instead, he saved his game and placed the console on the nightstand before clambering onto the bed. Akashi looked at Furihata in surprise when the brunet picked up his hand - the hand that was playing with his hair, Furihata made certain - and kissed each knuckle, not breaking contact from those red jewels all the while.

And when Akashi let out a shaky breath, choosing to pull him closer instead to place slow, sensual kisses on his lips, Furihata smiled into the kiss, knowing the other had completely forgotten about the matter.

This was a secret for himself, after all. And Furihata wasn't willing to share.

Besides, he quite liked seeing a sulking Akashi.


	5. king;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally supposed to be a birthday fic for akashi, but i didn't make it on time so.
> 
> because akashi seijuurou had to be the king of _something_ , if not basketball.

That year, Rakuzan had clashed with Seirin earlier on in the Winter Cup.

Unlike the previous year, both schools were within the same block and they had faced off in their third round. It was a fierce battle, much like it was last year, but with the disappearance of Mayuzumi  Seirin was evidently better off. Kiyoshi had came back from America right before their second round, his knee completely healed and fully geared to play. He remained as airheaded as he had the year before, but his eyes shone with determine and the strong urge to win.

Naturally, Rakuzan lost.

They had put on a fierce battle, but the gap Mayuzumi left was simply too large. It wasn't that Rakuzan lacked any above average players - they had plenty of those to spare - but despite the invisible senior's rather average abilities, his special trait had been of great assistance to their overall team play. No other player could have filled his place.

Seirin fought and fought, and proceeded to the finals where they were matched up against Shuutoku.

They lost by a measly three points.

Akashi could clearly remember Shuutoku's roar of ecstacy as the Kings reclaimed their throne. He remembered Seirin shedding tears non-stop, just like Mibuchi and Hayama did when they lost against Seirin (both years), and felt a small pang inside his chest. Akashi hadn't shed any tears when they had lost that year, but he had felt hollow and numb when the whistle had sounded, bringing with it the end of the game.

It was frustrating. He had always wanted something better than himself. Something that would have given him a challenge after having had spent his whole life doing nothing but winning, claiming victory after victory.

Yet when victory alluded him, he could do nothing but desperately crave for it. (And if he noticed the bitterness, perhaps even jealousy, that swelled in his chest, he ignored it.)

He wanted to be the best.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Spring came. Akashi met up with Furihata once more before they both had to roll over to their third year, in which the chances of them being able to see each other would significantly decrease as they both concentrated on exams. They visited a park. Furihata said they could visit the amusement park another time, claiming that they should just relax before they were swamped with workload.

Akashi honestly didn't remember much of what they had done there, despite having spent more than an hour at the park. All he could remember was thinking about basketball, and more basketball. (Furihata called him a basketball idiot once, but Akashi refused to be put on the same level as those idiotic Lights.) So lost in thought he was, thinking of new strategies Rakuzan could possibly use and how he could improve their training menu to finally claim the trophy that year, Akashi had completely forgotten about Furihata's presence.

It wasn't until the sun was setting and the skies were already dyed a deep mix between red and orange that Akashi snapped out of his thoughts, immediately alarmed when he didn't see the brunet anywhere close by. Furihata would never leave without notifying him, he knew, so Akashi texted him demanding his whereabouts.

Minutes passed by, but Akashi received no reply. He was beginning to worry at that point, afraid of the possibility that Furihata was angry at being neglected, despite his mind screaming at him that  _Kouki isn't like that_ . Ready to call him instead, Akashi was relieved when his phone chimed, notifying him of a message from Furihata.

_Look behind you_ , it read, just as a shadow loomed over him. Akashi swirled around with a start, briefly blinded by the sun above before the brunet came closer, blocking the glaring rays, and placed something on his head. Slowly reaching a hand up to inspect the matter, he came into contact with something soft and smooth, the pads of his fingers sliding against it easily.

He pulled it down, ruby orbs examining the array of colours with confusion. "A flower crown...?"

"Yeah!" Furihata nodded with a wide grin, crouching down to Akashi's level. "That little girl over there," he motioned towards the direction of a young girl about to leave the park with her mother, "taught me how to make it."

A sudden rush of guilt overwhelmed him at that moment, causing something to lodge against his throat and making it harder to breath. "I apologise. I did not mean to neglect you," Akashi said, not quite sure whether to elaborate or not.

He didn't need to, though.

"It's okay, you were thinking about something important, right?"

It always amazed him how well Furihata had come to understand him. Reluctantly, Akashi nodded. Searching his lover's face, he was relieved to see that the brunet truly held nothing against him for it.

"If you don't mind me asking," Furihata started, choosing his words carefully, "what were you thinking about?"

At the question, Akashi hesitated, unsure how to answer before deciding to tell him the briefest of the matter. "About the training menu for the new starters. Mibuchi-san and the others will be graduating in two weeks." Their absence would definitely leave a huge impact on their club.

Furihata didn't say anything in reply, choosing to stare intensely at the other instead. Despite himself, Akashi felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze but managed to not show any sign of it. He had no idea what the other saw, but Furihata seemed to be satisfied as he nodded his head, a spark of determination and understanding flittering across his hazel eyes.

The next thing Akashi knew, a hand was placed on his head and was ruffling his nest of red locks gently. A red eyebrow raised up, silently questioning the treatment he was being exposed to, but his lover only smiled gently in reply.

"You're always working so hard, Sei." His voice was so tender, and for a moment the image of a woman with long, red locks fluttering behind her in the wind came to mind. Her smile was just as soft and kind as her voice, praising him for his achievements - but just as quickly as it came, the memory was gone as Furihata continued, "It's our day off today, and yet you're still thinking about work."

Akashi nearly let another apology slip pass his lips at that, but refrained from doing so when he saw that the other held no grudges for it, so he set his lips into a thin line instead. A moment passed with the two in silence before he finally reached up to the hand still nestled in his tresses and lifted it off, choosing to hold onto it instead of letting go. Furihata didn't seem to have any qualms about it, judging from how he sat down on the grass together with him before he laced their fingers together, running the pad of this thumb against the back of Akashi's palm. He smiled as the redhead began to relax, the tension in the other's shoulders gradually relaxing and his face softening.

"You know, Seijuurou," Furihata said, breaking the silence and watching the other from the corner of his eye. "You don't always have to be the best."

"But I want to." The words slipped out before he could stop himself. Akashi turned away at his blunder, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards marginally; he didn't want Furihata to see his current expression.

"Hmm," Furihata hummed. Something about the curiosity in the other's tone made Akashi turn back to him, but his lover wasn't looking at him. Instead, his eyes were gazing into the distance, watching the setting sun bask their surroundings in its glow. In that moment, Furihata's tresses looked more orange than brown, his skin more golden than tan, and Akashi was unable to pull his eyes away from the striking image - but he didn't want to anyway.

"I think you're already the best though?"

His fingers twitched against their joined hands. He may have been the best in everything - but not in basketball. His loss at the Winter Cup both years proved that.

Furihata seemed to understand his sentiments, those hazel eyes turning away from the beautiful scene and focusing solely on him instead. Disconnecting their hands, he stood up and brushed himself off of any grass clinging onto him. Akashi didn't comment on the loss of warmth despite his dissatisfaction - but he never really had the time to voice it out anyway, for Furihata was reaching out and plucking the flower crown from his hand.

Akashi intently watched the other's movements, curious to what his lover had planned. "Sei," the brunet called, and Akashi loved how the syllable rolled off the other's tongue. Every time Furihata called his name, it felt like it contained all his love and the feeling it gave Akashi made him feel all fuzzy inside.

"You may not be the king in basketball," Furihata continued, brushing red bangs away from ruby jewels. He loved those eyes; always so calculating and seeing all, but always so warm when gazing at him. Placing the crown on his beloved's head, the brunet then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the other's forehead before moving down and whispering against his lips, "But you're the king of my heart."

Not even a second after finishing his claim, he decreased their distance, his lips coming into contact with Akashi's and brushing against it a few times. They lingered there for a while before finally pulling away. Akashi's breath caught in his throat at the smile Furihata directed at him, so wide and threatening to split his face into two, and those eyes sparkling so full of pride and love for him.

Akashi felt himself falling for Furihata Kouki all over again.

Resting his head against the other's shoulder, the redhead closed his eyes and released a sigh. Stray fingers came up to run through his red locks and he snuggled closer to the curve of his lover's neck. The two remained in that position for a while until Akashi finally pulled away, his face composed and showing nothing of his earlier hesitance and worries.

Akashi kissed him once more before saying, "Kouki says very embarrassing things." He delighted in the deep flush that stained his lover's cheeks, laughing when Furihata shouted his response.

"I don't want to hear that from you of all people!"

Pulling Furihata up with him, he led them both out of the park. "Shall we have dinner at Maji Burger?" The sun had almost completely set, the sky turned into different shades of purple and blue. While Akashi wasn't too fond of the fast food chain, he knew Furihata was most comfortable there (or at any other casual restaurants) when eating out. Furihata nodded, his eyes brightening at the prospect of food. Akashi had to refrain from pulling the other into another kiss.

They reached Maji Burger about twenty minutes later. Despite the stares he received during their short walk, Akashi couldn't bring himself to take off the flower crown adorning his mane. And when Furihata approached the counter to place their orders, Akashi stood behind him and watched his beloved with a straight face, but his eyes held endearment and love.

After all, Akashi Seijuurou had to be king of  _something_ \- and if he couldn't be the emperor on the court, then he'd just have to settle with being the  _King of Kouki's heart_ . Ultimately, Akashi thought as he fondly watched Furihata eat, nothing was more important than that.


	6. parting;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for [hoka](http://inachuu.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> there are no goodbyes - and definitely no happy endings.

Akashi wakes up at the ungodly hours of the morning shivering slightly. A hand reaches out, patting the spot next to him and feeling cold emptiness instead of what was once warm. Ruby eyes crack open in alert, noting that it was still dark out, the only source of light being the soft sliver of moonlight infiltrating past his deep red curtains.

He turns to the window, then, entranced by the way the moon wrapped his lover in its gentle embrace. Furihata almost looks ethereal as he leans against the window sill, distantly staring at whatever laid on the other side of the plane. His skin is paler under the night sky and his eyes almost translucent. Akashi's breath catches in his throat at the tears slowly trickling down the brunet's cheeks; they sparkle innocently under the light.

At the sound of rustling sheets, Furihata turns towards him and graces him with a small smile despite the liquid running down his face. Akashi can't decide what he likes more, his smiles or his tear-streaked face; Furihata looks beautiful even when crying, he distractedly thinks.

Getting out of his warm heaven, Akashi languidly approaches his lover. (It is far too cold. How long had Furihata been out of bed in nothing but his birthday suit?) He stops short and chooses to lean on the other side of the window sill instead, looking out at the large expanse of land that belonged to the Akashi family.

They share no words, but it isn't really necessary.

From his peripheral, he notices Furihata tremble slightly. Without a moment's pause, he extends his hand palm up to the other. "Come," he says.

Furihata grabs onto it with no hesitance. Akashi pulls them both to bed. Locked within each other's embrace, the two lay there as the time continued to tick.

"It's going to be okay," Akashi says softly - but they both know it's a lie. Furihata doesn't say anything in reply, merely burying his nose deeper into the curve of Akashi's neck.

When morning comes, Furihata is nowhere to be found. It doesn't hinder Akashi; instead, he goes about the morning as he usually does before preparing for the upcoming party that night.

He sees his lover— _ex-lover_ , his mind traitorously reminds him—standing next to Kuroko. Akashi makes no move to approach him, neither does Furihata. The night proceeds monotonously with Akashi and his fiancée thanking the many guests who came for their engagement party.

When he notes the nest of brown tresses making its way towards him, Akashi steels his resolves and greets, "Kuroko, Furihata, I'm glad you could make it. Thank you for coming." Well-practiced, refined pleasantries, topped with a business-like smile.

Kuroko nods in greeting. "Congratulations on your engagement." From his side, Furihata mimics Kuroko and wishes Akashi and his fiancée a happy and long life together. Akashi bites on the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying anything unnecessary. Refrain from telling Furihata that he wanted to spend a happy and long life with _him_ , not the unknown woman beside him.

But life isn't simple like that.

They exchange a few more words before parting ways as Akashi turns towards another group of guests coming towards him, obviously to offer more congratulatory greetings that he cared nothing for. In the middle of their conversation, Akashi sees Furihata marching towards the exit.

Akashi makes no move to pursue him.

There are no goodbyes - and definitely no happy endings.

Life goes on.


	7. title;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for [sticken](http://furihatakouki.tumblr.com/) for [akafuri secret santa 2014.](http://akafurisecretsanta.tumblr.com/)
> 
> it wasn't that they were hiding their relationship. they just hadn't thought it necessary to spill it out.

They had never lied about their relationship, but they never told the truth either. If they weren’t asked about it, then they didn’t say. At the same time, when they _were_ asked about it, more often than not they skirted around the matter. It wasn’t that they were ashamed of being homosexual (or of each other), no. Seijuurou was perfectly fine with being open about their relationship. Kouki, however, was a different story. Rather than being ashamed, though, the brunet was simply afraid of his friends and family’s reaction to his coming out.

As time passed, Kouki gradually warmed up to the idea and first told his close friends from his high school days and his elder brother. Kouki’s brother was quickest to accept this new revelation than anyone else had, and Seijuurou was more thankful towards him for that than anyone would have known. He didn’t particularly care for the opinions of those unimportant to him, but the knowledge of his acceptance had lifted a heavy burden off Kouki’s shoulders and made him more relaxed than he’d been in ages - and that, Seijuurou was eternally grateful for.

Kouki’s friends from the Seirin Basketball Club were more accepting than anything, even if they were a bit uncomfortable at first but slowly grew accustomed to their public display of affections. Seijuurou’s high school friends didn’t mind all too much in all honesty, as most of them had already been used to Reo’s attitude and behaviour. They were shocked at first that their now-ex-Captain swung that way, but overall were okay with it; it wasn’t that they were supportive, but each of them minded their own businesses and didn’t push into each other’s private lives. Well, with the exception of Reo anyhow.

It was their families that were the main obstacle. With support from the eldest son, the Furihata parents had reluctantly grown to accept their relationship—but Seijuurou’s father was all wrath and hardened eyes. He could still remember how pale Kouki had went, how his whole body trembled visibly, and how his clammy hand tightened around his own to the point it hurt. Seijuurou maintained a distant relationship with his father since then, never mind the years before that; the redhead thought their relationship was already as strained as it could have been after his mother’s death, but it only got worse after his loss at his first Winter Cup and even more so after his coming out.

_But that’s a story for another time_ , Seijuurou thought boredly as he stared into the distance. A black-haired girl stood before them, rambling on about something or another that he had absolutely no interest in. Seijuurou didn’t bother to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening by having his head turned completely away from her. Kouki on the other hand was simply too nice to tell her to go away, his head nodding along to what she said every once in a while, but he knew better from years of being together that that slight twitch at the corner of his lips was a telltale sign of his irritation.

Seijuurou sighed. It had been a long day for both of them, having had classes from early morning till late afternoon and he still had to write his essay when they got back. He was about to politely tell the girl to bug off, when she asked an unexpected question that caught his interest.

"So are you two going out? Boyfriends? You’re always together so I just kind of thought," she continued, one question leaving her lips after another and leaving them no room to reply. From her tone, Seijuurou could tell she was joking around, but he was curious how Kouki would react nonetheless.

"No," Kouki cut in rather harshly, his voice raised a little to break off her rant. "No, we’re not boyfriends."

Ouch. That stung, Seijuurou found himself thinking. While Kouki was no longer afraid of showing his affections within the presence of his friends and family, he wasn’t too keen on letting acquaintances, like the girl before them, and strangers know. Even so, he hadn’t expected Kouki to reveal anything, truth or lie. They had always somehow averted the topic until then, so it was a first for Kouki to have denied their relationship. So vehemently at that.

"Oh, I see!" the girl continued, not missing a beat. "That’s a relief!" Seijuurou wanted to ask exactly what was, when his heart was clenching so uncomfortably at that moment.

"We’re not boyfriends," Kouki said once more, surprising Seijuurou, "but I never said we’re not going out."

At this point, Seijuurou was more confused than anything. A brief look at the girl and he knew she was too. Kouki was contradicting himself. The man in question seemed to sense his confusion and looked towards him, his hand sliding into his own perfectly.

"We’re not boyfriends. We’re lovers,” he clarified, lifting their intertwined fingers and allowing the world to see. “Now, if you’d excuse us, we have things to do.” And with that, Kouki dragged a bewildered Seijuurou away and left the girl stunned speechless, frozen on her spot.

It wasn’t until a while later that Seijuurou snapped out of his stupor, his gaze lingering on their clasped hands for a long moment before lifting to look at the back of his beloved’s head, watching those brown tresses sway with each step the brunet took.

"So," he started, trying not to let his curiosity show, "are you not going to explain?"

"There’s nothing to explain though?" Kouki replied with his own question, turning around to look at the redhead with mischievousness in his chocolate brown eyes. Seijuurou squeezed the hand in his own in reply before levelling Kouki with an unimpressed look.

"Okay, okay!" Seijuurou couldn’t help a small smile at that point. Really, Kouki simply couldn’t keep up a fight for long. "She’s interested in you." At his lover’s deadpan expression, the brunet quickly added, "I didn’t like it!"

"So you revealed our relationship."

It wasn’t even a question, but Kouki nodded nonetheless, fidgeting under that unnerving stare all the while. Seijuurou was by no means upset, but a jealous Kouki was simply too adorable to resist.

"And that contradiction?" asked Seijuurou, suddenly recalling his confusion.

"Oh," Kouki breathed, a cheeky smile stretching across his face. "Don’t you think ‘lovers’ sound better?"

A raised eyebrow. “How so?”

"Mm… I’m not really sure how to say it, but…" With his free hand, Kouki tapped on his chin with his index finger. “‘Boyfriend’ feels like something… something like a crush, a puppy love? Like a relationship between high school students? A relationship that could end at any time before they find someone new? ‘Lover’ sounds more official, something _stronger_ and _unbreakable_ , more serious I suppose? It feels like a term you’d use to call the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

He broke off in a shaky laugh immediately afterwards, his index finger moving to his cheek instead to scratch at it nervously. “Sorry, I can’t really explain it properly.”

But it was more than enough for Seijuurou. He understood—understood and felt Kouki’s love filling him to the brim and more, replacing that painful ache from before with overwhelming happiness. He squeezed the brunet’s hand again, holding it firmly. He didn’t want to ever let this hand go.

"I love you, Kouki," Seijuurou said in all seriousness.

Kouki blinked at the sudden change. “I know,” he laughed, “I love you too.”

They’ve come a long way.


	8. wounds;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on [this prompt](http://damianwayneprotectionsquad.tumblr.com/post/88993510660).
> 
> superhero au. akashi and furihata are roommates who patch up each other's injuries after battles, without knowing the other is their arch-nemesis.

The soft click of the door opening alerted Furihata to his roommate's return. He looked up from his task to see the redhead staring at him unimpressed.

"You're covered in bruises," Akashi bluntly stated. He hadn't voiced it, but Furihata knew the other was waiting for his explanation.

"You know me, how clumsy I am..." He trailed off with a nervous chuckle. "You're awfully late today."

Akashi chanced a glance at the clock hanging on the adjacent wall. It read half past eleven into the night. "Yes... I had some matters to attend to." He couldn't exactly tell his roommate that he was busy discussing the events that transpired just earlier and was thinking up ways to outwit the superheroes next time, could he?

Furihata nodded but didn't pry, instead turning back to his original task of patching himself up. Akashi watched him struggle to place a band-aid on a blind spot on his back before approaching him and offering to do it. The brunet handed the item without fuss, muttering a small 'thanks' under his breath as Akashi helped with his other injuries too.

Running the pad of his index finger along a shallow but long cut on Furihata's back, Akashi couldn't fight back the frown that marred his face. "How exactly did this happen again?"

Coughing into his fist, Furihata said with a tinge of embarrassment, "I fell down the stairs." Akashi stared at him disbelievingly. Furihata didn't blame him, even that statement sounded like a lie to his ears. The bruises that blemished his tanned skin were understandable, but it was impossible to receive so many injuries, especially the abundance of cuts that stretched along the expanse of his back and arms, even a few smaller ones on his face, from just a fall down the stairs. However, it wasn't like he could tell Akashi that he was fighting the resident group of villains, Rakuzan, and sustained injuries from protecting a young girl from falling debris and rubble though.

Thankfully, Akashi didn't comment on it. "Well, you always were clumsy." Furihata laughed at that, remembering the many times Akashi had helped patch him up in the past. It wasn't his first time returning to their shared apartment with injuries as severe as this time's; a superhero's duty was full of dangers and risks, after all, and Furihata usually came home injured after a mission more often than not. Funnily, on such days, at times Akashi would return home from work or university with injuries too, albeit not as severe as his own, and they'd take turns fixing each other up.

Speaking of... Furihata grabbed onto Akashi's wrist as the latter was retracting it after placing a band-aid on a scratch on his face, rolling his sleeve up to reveal white bandage wrapped around his forearm and further down to his wrist. Furihata frowned. "How did you get this?"

Akashi paused. He hadn't thought the other would notice, though he shouldn't have been surprised as his roommate occasionally showed exceptionally keen observational skills. "I sprained it as I caught an elderly lady from falling down the stairs." He'd actually gotten it from a clash with the superhero _Tiger_ from Seirin though.

"Oh... Is she okay?" Akashi was never more thankful for how gullible the brunet was.

"Of course." _Because I saved her_ went unsaid, nevermind the fact that the aforementioned old lady was non-existent in the first place.

Furihata hummed in reply, a tender smile on his lips. Probably relieved the old lady was safe and unharmed, Akashi thought, his heterochromatic eyes softening at the other's kind nature. His musings were cut short as Furihata began peeling off his layers of clothing, however. Akashi started, his hands coming up to Furihata's chest and gently pushing him away. " _What are you doing, Kouki?_ "

A laugh escaped Furihata's lips at the question; Akashi sounded so scandalised. "I'm just checking if you have other injuries."

The redhead seemed to calm slightly at that. "I'm fine."

"So you say, but I need to be certain!" He resumed tugging on Akashi's clothes, the latter not putting up much of a fight in resistance despite his protests. "You're always hiding your worries and injuries, so I wouldn't be surprised if you are this time too!"

Akashi sighed in exasperation. Once Furihata was as determined as he currently was, there was no stopping him.


	9. sacred;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for akafuri drabble weekend with many others in the [akafuri chatroom](http://www.chatzy.com/89751951685291).
> 
> in which kouki gets lost at an abandoned shrine and meets the most fascinating person.

At seven years old, Kouki meets the most beautiful person he's ever seen. With long, flowing scarlet hair and ruby and garnet jewels for eyes, Kouki is instantly taken in by the child cloaked in a white kimono, peonies decorating the lower corner flap of the robe.

"Hello," the beauty before him greets. Kouki stutters a greeting in return, his face heating up as he fidgets under the other's scrutiny. "Why are you here?"

He fiddles for the answer, but fails to speak up. It is his third try when he finally manages. "I-I think I'm l-lost..."

"You think?" the other repeats, mild amusement clear in his voice.

Shaking his head, he says in a more confident but resigned tone, "I'm lost."

The redhead smiles — and Kouki thinks they have the most gorgeous smile — before directing him with instructions on how to return home. It is only later, half way down the hundred steps that Kouki wonders how the stranger knew where he lived. He turns back, intent on voicing his confusion, but the other is no longer there.

When he returns home, Kouki tells his mother all about the gorgeous child he met at the abandoned shrine. He expects his mother to smile in that indulgent way she always does when he rambles about the happenings of his day. Instead, concern and fear overwhelms her as she clutches onto Kouki's upper arms, demanding him never to set foot near there again. "Children have gotten lost there and have never returned," she says, "stolen away by _that child_."

Kouki promises, but can't help thinking it is impossible for someone as beautiful and kind as that child to do such a thing.

Which is why, three weeks after the incident, after having been unable to forget those attractive jewels, Kouki dashes up the hundred steps leading to the abandoned shrine. He halts at the red gates, hands on his knees as he sucks in breath after breath, only startling when a voice greets him, his head snapping up to the source immediately.

"Hello again," the redhead beauty greets once more.

In reply, Kouki says, "You cut your hair." Gone were the long red locks, their hair only reaching just above their chin. What a shame, Kouki thinks, he was quite fond of the other's long hair, but he supposes it was worth it to see that red mane slightly sticking out in various directions. It doesn't make the other any less gorgeous, however; in fact, the other still looks breath-taking and Kouki is enraptured, his eyes unable to leave the other.

The redhead doesn't deem his statement with a reply, instead they say, "I am Akashi, by the name of Seijuurou." Kouki idly thinks that's a strange way to introduce oneself. "What is yours?"

"Kouki," he answers, "Furihata Kouki."

"And why are you here again, Kouki?"

He gulps, takes a deep breath, before, "I wanted to see you."

A flicker of _something_ flashes across those heterochomatic eyes, but Kouki is unable to determine what it was.

"I see. I am happy to hear that, Kouki." The brunet beams, glad that he had somehow made the other _happy_. "Would you like to play with me?" Seijuurou asks, extending a hand to the other in offering.

Kouki accepts it all too readily. "Yes!"

Seijuurou gives a soft smile in reply but, unbeknownst to the brunet, their eyes glint with maliciousness.

It always is easier when they come at their own accord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried writing gender-neutral akashi for once, but idk how well that went. (kinda too short of a story to matter all that much tbh.) akashi's a spirit anyway, what is gender lol


	10. vein;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rather than the pinky, it’d make more sense if the red string of fate was tied to the ring finger.
> 
> written for akafuri drabble weekend.

Akashi looked up from the book he was reading when his free hand was snatched off his lap. Furihata was stroking up and down the length of each finger, the content airing on television long forgotten. He seemed almost fascinated by Akashi's hand, his eyes not straying from it as he continued to feel the expanse of his palm - and Akashi let him, enthralled by the wonder glazing those warm hazel orbs.

Finally, Furihata spoke up, "Why do you think the red string of fate is always attached to the pinky?"

He gave a brief glance at the television; a romance drama was currently airing. Akashi wouldn't have been surprised if it were the cause for his lover's sudden interest.

"It is a Japanese legend, Kouki."

The corners of Furihata's lips tugged down slightly, apparently not satisfied with the answer. "Well... yeah, but why the pinky?"

Akashi resisted a sigh. "It is a legend, Kouki. You don't question it."

"You don't believe in it, do you?" Furihata asked, a brow raised. Akashi narrowed his eyes in reply, deeming his answer obvious. Of course he didn't believe in legends and the sorts. Everything he did, he did of his own will and efforts - and that in itself should have amounted to something. "Then, you don't think us fated?"

Pausing, Akashi gave it some thought. "Perhaps not." He observed the face of his beloved carefully, ascertaining that Furihata did not feel hurt by his revelation. His concern was uncalled for, however, as the brunet merely gave a small, encouraging smile. With ease, he continued, "Or perhaps we are. However, as we will never be able to know for certain of this..."

"You do not believe," Furihata finished in his stead. Akashi nodded.

"Yes, but it does not change the fact I chose _you_ , Kouki." He flipped his hand around to intertwine with Furihata's, their fingers easily, perfectly, falling in place together like a key fitting a lock.

"And I, you," Furihata replied, bringing up their linked hands to kiss each of Akashi's knuckles before moving downwards from the back of his hand to his wrist. Each contact sent jolts of pleasure up Akashi's spine and he fought to remain composed, but from the small smirk he felt against his wrist he was certain Furihata caught on immediately.

To his relief (or frustration, he couldn't quite decide), Furihata released his hand, inching towards something on his lap instead. Akashi peered down to see his lover removing his red ribbon, a make-shift bookmark, from between the pages and setting his book on the low-table before them.

Reaching out for Akashi's hand again, Furihata looped one end of the ribbon around his ring finger. "You see, rather than the pinky, I think it'd make more sense if the red string of fate was tied to the ring finger." Akashi hummed in response, prompting his lover to continue. "Do you know why the wedding ring goes on the fourth finger, Sei?"

" _Vena amoris_ ," he replied confidently, the Latin rolling off his tongue fluently with no difficulty. "The vein in the fourth finger is directly connected to the heart and is thus recognised as the vein of love."

"Yes, that's correct," Furihata confirmed as he knotted the ribbon around Akashi's left ring finger. "Then, as such, would it not be better for the red string of fate to be tied together by the ring fingers?"

His lover was so corny, Akashi found himself thinking with growing frequency the longer they were together. "Kouki, the existence of vena amoris was not known until much later, after the establishment of the legend."

Furihata pouted, raising his left hand in front of Akashi.  "Tie the other end?"

Akashi rolled his eyes, but did not refrain from doing as requested, picking up the ribbon and gently binding it to his lover's ring finger. Flexing his fingers, Furihata stared at the ribbon attached to him, following the length of red connecting him to his beloved. Face softening, he grasped onto Akashi's left hand with his own. This simple accessory was _their_ red string of fate.

He hadn't realised he had said that out loud until Akashi snorted, raising his free hand to his mouth to muffle the imminent laughter. If possible, instead of feeling offended, Furihata's expression merely softened further. No matter how many times he saw it, Akashi's smiling face, especially his laughter, pulled persistently at his heartstrings with no intentions of ever stopping.

"It's also like wedding rings," he teased, the words causing Akashi to pause as he registered them.

"...Are you proposing, Kouki?"

"Perhaps," Furihata said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. There was a long period of silence as Akashi gazed into warm, hazel orbs. His lover had possibly said it on a whim, but the affection in those eyes told no lie.

Akashi sighed, leaned back on the armrest and, with their intertwined hands, pulled Furihata down with him. "You lovable fool."

And then he reached up, closing the distance between them and silencing Furihata's soft chuckle with his lips.


	11. farewell;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kouki’s coughing out blood – and akashi doesn’t know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should never write after work because words fail me. 150% do not like my writing in this piece, blah.
> 
> written for akafuri drabble weekend.

It is Akashi’s first task and he’s already befuddled.

“Hello,” the brunet boy before him speaks, white covers wrapped comfortably around him not unlike a mother’s gentle embrace. His lids are closed, but his head is faced towards Akashi’s direction.

Akashi purses his lips. “You can see me?” he demands more than asks.

Moments pass by without an answer from the boy. A spark of irritation lights up in him and he very nearly repeats his question in annoyance, but the brunet beats him to it. Tilting his head as he continues to stare at Akashi from behind closed eyelids, the child furrows his brows as he asks softly, “Can you not speak...?”

It is Akashi’s first task and he’s beyond befuddled.

“Are you not only blind but deaf too?” Akashi asks, more than a little confused. He does not recall the boy being unable to hear in the reports he received before coming here. Perhaps the higher ups had missed out on some information, however unlikely that was? Akashi has certainly never heard of such a case happening before though.

His question goes unanswered once again.

“It’s okay if you can’t speak. I’m the same; I can’t see,” the brunet says with a small smile. (Akashi doesn’t understand how the other can smile like that – like being blind is _fine_ , when it’s not.)

Before Akashi can get another word in, he is interrupted by the opening of the door. At the creak, the brunet immediately turns towards the sound. Akashi, too, follows his line of sight towards an older brunette woman dressed in a white blouse under a navy blue blazer, a rose pink pencil skirt wrapped snugly around her waist and finished with navy heels.

“Kouki,” the newcomer says, overwhelming warmth oozing out from her tone.

The boy—Kouki—brightens up at her voice. “Mama!”

So he’s not deaf after all. How strange, Akashi thinks.

.

.

.

It is twenty four days after their first meeting and Akashi is not any less confused than he was before.

If there is one thing he’s come to understand, it is that he is, indeed, invisible to the human eye. Kouki had introduced his mother to him, directing her gaze towards his direction and telling her to meet his “friend”. Puzzled was an understatement; the woman had narrowed her hazel irises at him but all she could see was empty space, before turning back to her son and going along with his antics, probably assuming Akashi was simply an imaginary friend.

Another conclusion he’s come to is: Kouki has a very keen sense. No human should have been able to see nor hear of his existence, yet the boy had sensed his presence. Akashi has no method of confirming the true reasoning for this, but he assumes Kouki’s exceptional senses may have resulted due to his disability, which forced him to become more aware of his surroundings.

Sitting on the window sill, Akashi listens to Kouki’s gentle hums, his shoulders relaxing at the soft sound without his awareness, while staring out into the gardens. Many people in long gowns sat at various places in the garden, family members or possibly friends surrounding them. Akashi almost pities them, their eyes all appearing lifeless, but refrains. He’s long since abandoned his emotions, ever since he first took up his post.

“Done!”

The cheerful exclamation draws Akashi’s attention away from the gardens, red and amber instead directing towards to the boy once again embraced by his white duvet. A low table is sat above Kouki’s outstretched legs on the bed, colourful squared paper scattered around atop the wood. In Kouki’s tiny hands is a crinkled sakura-patterned paper crane. After two weeks of practising he finally managed to fold it properly, albeit not so beautifully, Akashi realises. Somehow, a small sense of pride blossoms inside his chest at the sight.

Kouki lets out a giggle as he juggles the paper crane from hand to hand before gently cupping it in both and bringing it up to his chest, his smile genuinely happy and proud. After a moment of fiddling with the crane again, Kouki directs his gaze to Akashi. (It always surprises him how keen Kouki is, always aware _exactly_ where he is.)

“For you,” Kouki says, his arms outstretched towards Akashi with the crane in his chubby, little hands.

Akashi makes no move to take it. (He’s not certain he’d even be able to touch it.)

When Kouki finally realises Akashi isn’t going to take it, he slowly lowers his arms and turns away with a saddened smile. For some inexplicable reason, Akashi feels a sharp pang in his chest.

Kouki doesn’t look at Akashi for the rest of the day.

.

.

.

When Kouki wakes up the next morning, reaching out to the nightstand to his side, he is met with surprise and delight when he feels nothing.

.

.

.

(Ah, Akashi discovers, so he _can_ touch it after all. Picking up the crane from the slumbering brunet’s nightstand, he places it inside his black robe with a gentleness he’s never known before.)

.

.

.

Kouki’s coughing out blood – and Akashi doesn’t know what to do.

He jumps up from the window sill he was perched on, his permanent seat at some point over the duration of visits to Kouki, feet rushing to the brunet’s side but hand freezing mid-air a few inches from the child.

He’s known all along that Kouki’s time is limited, yet Akashi had somehow gotten attached to him. The pain is excruciating and all Akashi can do is step aside as the men and women in white filters in, ordering for this and that equipment to be used.

Two hours later and Kouki is calm again, the oxygen mask not hindering his tiny almost non-existent smile. Akashi can’t tear his eyes away from how pained it looks. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the day, not even when Kouki finally falls asleep. (But then, Kouki wouldn’t be able to hear his desperate pleas anyway.)

.

.

.

It is two hundred and thirty six days since their first meeting when _the day_ comes.

Kouki’s mother has just rushed out, shouting for help. Akashi watches with a numbness he can’t explain as Kouki clutches at his chest, his face scrunched up and body curling in at the pain. Despite that, his lids slide open to stare at Akashi, or more precisely where he is, revealing a dull brown; Akashi imagines how bright they could have been had Kouki not been blind, and finds himself nearly choking over how beautiful they possibly used to be. With great difficulty, Kouki utters out through coughs and blood, “Th...ank... you...” before the nurses and doctors barge in, reeling the boy to the emergency room with great urgency, Kouki’s mother following behind in hurried steps.

Akashi feels as if a part of him had been forcefully taken away.

.

.

.

“Hello,” Kouki says, his hazel eyes bright and sparkling like Akashi imagined them to be, stealing his breath away. “It’s nice to finally see what you look like.”

Akashi swallows thickly, not ready for the upcoming event.

Tilting his head to the side, much like he had done at their first meeting, Kouki asks, “Won’t you let me hear your voice?”

Releasing a shuddering breath, Akashi speaks, “I am Akashi Seijuurou, and I will be taking your soul.”

Kouki doesn’t even blink at the news, merely smiling. “You have a lovely voice, just like I imagined.”

Akashi tries to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. Crouching down, he reaches out towards Kouki, hands cupping the child’s soft cheeks. “Farewell, Kouki.”

The smile never leaves his face as Akashi leans forward and places his forehead on his own, a white light coming out from Kouki’s body and expanding before enveloping them both.


	12. jurant;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> furihata has always been able to see a red string tied around the fingers of others.

Furihata has always been able to see a red string tied around the fingers of others. Sometimes it'd be on the thumb, sometimes the index, it could be wrapped around any of the fingers but never more than one simultaneously; he didn’t quite understand why the differing positions, but never questioned it. He learns, later on, of the legend of the red string of fate and finds it fascinating. Even more so by the fact that he can see what he assumes is the aforementioned "red string of fate" (and is strangely proud of it too).

The excitement grows whenever he sees soul mates meeting each other for the first time, the red string of fate materialising around their thumbs and connecting them, and is proud to witness their bond strengthen as the string gradually moves from the thumb down each finger until it reaches the pinkie. _Oh_ , Furihata, now a middle school student, realises, the positioning of the string signifies the extent of the couple’s growing love and closeness. Watching his relatives, neighbours and the nice people at the local supermarket meet their soul mates and, over time, become lovers... Furihata cannot be happier. For this reason, Furihata is all the more enthusiastic to meet his soul mate. What kind of person are they? How will they first meet? Such thoughts continue to plague his mind, even when he moves on to high school.

High school, as it turns out, is when he learns more to the red string of fate. He thought he already knew everything there was to know about it, but he is proven wrong when he discovers a person can have more than one soul mate at once. This is the case when Kiyoshi Teppei returns back to the club, a red string materialising on his middle finger connecting to Aida Riko’s, who also has a red string around her index finger leading to Hyuuga Junpei. Furihata doesn’t know what to think, but a sinking feeling emerges deep within his chest at the knowledge that one of his dear seniors will be left heartbroken.

(As it turns out, there is nothing he can do but simply watch as their relationship develops. Furihata continues observing till they graduate and, finally, in one of their Seirin reunions when they’ve all already graduated high school, in the end, is more than relieved to see Hyuuga and Kiyoshi have also formed a connection with one another. The three all have a string tied around their ring fingers connecting to the other two, and Furihata is certain he no longer has anything to worry about.)

Surprisingly enough, Kuroko and Kagami are not connected by fate. Furihata thought for sure a string would form between the two at any moment, but is surprised when Midorima appears, followed by the materialisation of a red string linking him to Kagami. Well, that’s certainly a strange combination, but who is Furihata to say? With Midorima, though, brings along Takao Kazunari and, consequently, another strange coupling – this time with Kuroko. Furihata comes to terms with this relationship quicker than he does with Kagami and Midorima’s, relieved that Kuroko will have someone who will always notice him and pay attention to his surroundings. It’s a good match, Furihata thinks.

While Furihata constantly thinks about his soul mate, he never actually thinks he’ll be meeting them any time soon. He wishes for it, hopes for it, but he does not expect it. Seeing the figure standing ominously on those steps, the sun shining down behind them resulting in a shadow hiding their features, Furihata can barely stop his trembling. He doesn’t notice the connection that has formed between the two of them until the redhead is walking away, the string stretching further and further and disappearing when the other is no longer in sight.

Calming his tremors, Furihata can hardly believe Akashi Seijuurou is his soul mate – but the red string around their thumbs were a telling sign. Maybe, just _maybe_ , Fate can be wrong every once in a while.

Or not.

While Furihata was still a trembling mess during their second meeting (but who could blame him? He never expected to be pitted up against a far superior player like Akashi, who even his more experienced Izuki-senpai couldn’t hold his own against, and it was the _finals_ too! Any mistake he made could have cost the team and that was more than enough to warrant his extreme nervousness), Akashi is more friendly than Furihata originally thought. They encountered each other a few times outside of basketball and Furihata was a little shocked to discover Akashi off-court was not like he was on-court. Like that, it was easy to form a kind of friendship between them.

And so, the years pass. The more time Furihata spent with Akashi, learning more about him, the deeper he fell in love. It’s aggravating because Furihata is well aware they are soul mates, but Akashi _can’t_ see it. He doesn’t think he can just go up to the other and blurt out, “We’re soul mates.” Besides, if they truly are, then with time Akashi will choose him in the end. Furihata has no doubt about that.

It particularly makes him overjoyed when the string moves from finger to finger. When it first moved from the thumb to the index finger, Furihata was ecstatic! Their friendship was growing and it would continue to grow. It was right after graduating high school that the string materialised around their middle fingers. Soon, Furihata chanted, soon, Akashi and he will become a couple.

Which is why, Furihata, now in his last year of university, is standing before a flower store. His hazel eyes are set on the brilliant sunflowers standing tall in all their glory. Very much like Akashi, he finds himself thinking – before berating himself for how deeply he’s fallen for the redhead, his every thought easily tracing back to his soul mate.

Looking down at his ring finger, where the red string would be if Akashi were present, a smile quickly forms. They’ve come a long way and Furihata decided he’ll finally confess. Maybe not directly, but he wanted to convey it in some way. Furihata doesn’t think he’ll be able to openly tell Akashi he loves him just yet, but he wants Akashi to know he’ll be with him all the way, supporting him through thick and thin – and thus, sunflowers are the best choice, he decides.

Paying for the flowers, now wrapped beautifully, Furihata makes his way to their decided meeting place. Something is bothering Akashi lately and Furihata doesn’t know what, but he is determined to let the other know he is not alone. Furihata is there, always will be, and Akashi can rely on him, he wants to say—but he doesn’t have a chance to. Not with the way Akashi’s ruby red eyes gleam brightly as he speaks to the dark haired man sitting next to him on the bench.

To any other, the miniscule change will go unnoticed, but Furihata has been by Akashi’s side for years, always paying attention to every little thing Akashi does. It is more than obvious to him that Akashi cares for this man, especially when he lets out that tiny smile that is reserved for so few.

And then he sees it: the red string attached to their pinkies.

Everything comes crashing down. His ears tune out the rest of the world, focusing on the mumbled voices belonging to Akashi and the stranger until even those drown out. Something clogs in his throat and he finds it difficult to call out to Akashi, his hands dropping the bouquet of sunflowers in favour of clutching tightly at his chest, clawing at the material of his shirt as if doing so will free his heart from the agony he is experiencing.

A hand clasps tightly on his shoulder, shaking him out of his stupor, and Furihata reacts on reflex: snapping his head up in shock and slapping the hand on him away. There is surprise and a little hurt – God forbid him, causing pain to his beloved – reflected in those ruby eyes. Furihata brings his hand back down, clenching his hands into fists by his side and mutters in a small voice, “S-sorry...”

There is confusion in those jewels, but Akashi waves off his apology, asking instead, “Are you all right, Furihata?” Furihata forces out a smile, but it looks more like a grimace. Despite obviously disbelieving, Akashi accepts his poor attempt regardless.

The man from earlier steps up from behind Akashi, flashing Furihata a smile. (Furihata manages a lop-sided one in return, his heart evidently not there.) Akashi turns to the stranger when he feels movement beside him and Furihata notices, again, how those rubies seem to shine brighter when laying eyes upon the taller raven. There’s another painful squeeze in his gut that he ignores in favour of listening to Akashi’s velvety voice.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone, Furihata.” Motioning towards the man besides him, Akashi elaborates, “This is Nijimura Shuuzou.”

“Ni...jimura... Shuuzou...?” Furihata croaks out, dumbfounded. “You mean... your former... Teikou captain?”

“Oh? You’ve been talking about me, Akashi?” Nijimura says, his dark eyes on his junior, an amused grin immediately forming at Furihata’s words.

Akashi does not look away, his red eyes locked on Nijimura’s as he says, a small smile on his lips, “I talk about many things with Furihata.” The fact Akashi doesn’t admit it but does not deny it either is telling enough for Nijimura, so he lets it slide.

Turning back to Furihata, Nijimura says, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Furihata manages to force out, a fake smile plastered on. Bending down, he picks up the discarded bouquet and pushes it into Akashi’s arms. “These are for you.” Confused but not forgetting his manners, Akashi thanks him. Furihata doesn’t give him time to question his motives behind the sunflowers. “Sorry, Akashi, something came up so I don’t think we can hang out today.”

“Is that so? You could have sent me a message instead of coming all the way here, Furihata.” The concern in those ruby jewels would usually have Furihata’s heart squeezing in joy, but now all he feels is pain.

“After having made you wait that long for me?” Furihata jests, despite the tears that want to fall. “No way!

“Well then,” nodding towards Nijimura in a sort of greeting, he starts turning away, “see you...”

“Yes,” Akashi replies, that tiny smile that Furihata thought only _he_ ’d be on the receiving end of on his lips. “Until next time.”

He flashes one last smile at Akashi before turning away completely, his pace quickening when he is finally out of their sight until he breaks out into a run. He wants away. Far away from Akashi and – and Nijimura, and that damn red string of fate they share. Only when he’s finally back in his apartment, does Furihata break down, the tears coming down in waterfalls and snot dripping. He wipes furiously at them, but his strangled sobs cannot be hidden.

.

.

.

Furihata looks down at the red string still tied around his ring finger, his hazel orbs trailing the length of it across the room to where Akashi stood with Nijimura. He lets out a pained smile without meaning to.

“I’m letting you go,” he says with a broken laugh, grasping onto the thin red string and forcably snapping it himself. Furihata watches as the string that used to connect him to Akashi slowly fade away. When it does, he gives Akashi one last look before leaving. He doesn’t look back.

(The sight would be too much to bear.)

.

.

.

As Furihata promised to himself, he doesn’t stop supporting Akashi, even when Nijimura and Akashi finally get together five months after Nijimura’s return from America. He continues to watch Akashi from afar, making sure that Akashi doesn’t get hurt and supporting him whenever Nijimura can’t, albeit those moments are short and few.

Furihata doesn’t think he’ll ever stop loving Akashi, and honestly doesn’t want to.

.

.

.

Two years later, Furihata will encounter someone from the past. Kise Ryouta is still as handsome as he remembers, but the two of them are very similar in terms of their love lives. Somehow, one way or another, Furihata and Kise develops an unlikely friendship and slowly fall for one another. It is not to the same extent Furihata fell for Akashi, he will admit, but he finds he is satisfied with this.

There is no red string of fate between Kise and Furihata, not in the past, not now, and definitely not in the future. Regardless, the two chose each other and they love each other. To Furihata, he doesn’t think he can be any happier.

When he next sees Akashi and Nijimura, for the first time in a long time he manages a genuine smile.

.

.

.

Furihata doesn’t stop loving Akashi. But there is no denying his love for Kise Ryouta is true.

Furihata doesn’t stop loving Akashi, doesn’t stop supporting him, but he does it with a sense of ease. The pain is no longer there. Things are clearer than he last remembers; his world no longer pivots around Akashi alone. They remain friends and Furihata is more happy than relieved when he sees Akashi together with Nijimura.

Wrapped in Kise’s arms, their fellow high school basketball peers surrounding them, Furihata doesn’t think he’ll ever regret falling for Akashi, nor does he regret never being chosen.

 _Because..._ Looking up at the man above him, Furihata places a kiss to Kise’s chin. _He led me to you._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fanfic was inspired by [this fanart](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=manga_big&illust_id=51045778&page=8) from [dongpung](http://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=1457489)'s [pixiv log](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=51045778).
> 
> i don't really like how this turned out ahaha.............. mid-way through i lost track of what i wanted to write........ |||orz


	13. acceptance;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for akafuri drabble weekend.
> 
> akashi is asexual, but after dating furihata kouki he's having more sex than he ever imagined he would in his life.
> 
> *contains suggestive themes, but otherwise no explicit content

Akashi Seijuurou is asexual. He becomes aware of this possibility early on in middle school, his disinterest in topics about girls (usually brought up by either Aomine or Kise) growing increasingly apparent as he proceeds through his middle school years; nor has he ever felt the strong, almost insane but most pleasurable urge Aomine and Haizaki often speak of: the need to masturbate.

Perhaps, Seijuurou thinks, it’s due to his upbringing. The idea of an Akashi jacking off, let alone to the thought of another, feels almost wrong— _improper_. It hasn’t ever obstructed his goals, however, so Seijuurou simply accepts the fact as it is.

This does not change even when, in his second year of university, he starts dating Furihata Kouki. The two of them hadn’t met under the most ideal circumstances in their first year of high school, but when Kouki became the captain of Seirin’s basketball club in his third year, they had began to interact more. Their unlikely friendship continued into their university years and after three years of dancing around each other, Kouki had confessed while Seijuurou accepted with a straight face, but there was no denying the pounding in his ears and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage.

The first time they hold hands, it starts with a shy touch of their pinkies as they walk side by side. Seijuurou cannot hide the disappointment he feels when Kouki jolts at the contact and distances himself, but those feelings are quickly washed away and is replaced with butterflies in his stomach as the other inches closer once again and link their pinkies together. (They don’t manage to hold hands, palm-to-palm, until two months later.)

Seijuurou relishes in their first kiss. They’ve been dating for a little over half a year already, but Kouki has yet to make his move. Seijuurou waits and waits, and waits some more. He does not want to push Kouki, but he’s getting impatient – which is why, on the day of his lover’s birthday, cuddled together on the couch of the Furihata household and wrapped in the encompassing warmth of each other and two layers of duvet, Seijuurou leans in and raises his hand to Kouki’s cheek, turning warm hazel orbs towards himself. There is only a few centimetres pulling them apart and it would be so, so easy to simply close that distance.

“May I?” Seijuurou asks. Kouki needs no further prompting.

The kiss is shy and hesitant. It’s endearing how careful Kouki is, making sure to ask him about every little thing, whether this is alright or that was okay or not, and Seijuurou has never felt more loved. The soft pecks and brushes of lip against lip turns into a heated make-out session. Seijuurou has to will himself to pull back before things go out of hand too fast, too soon. (They turn in early, abandoning the movie they had been watching.)

Despite all these little intimate acts that cause his stomach to flutter, Seijuurou is still not interested in sex – and he reluctantly admits to himself that he may be afraid to reveal this fact to Kouki. When the time comes and Kouki asks to progress their relationship further, the world comes to a halt and Seijuurou finds himself fumbling for words for the first time in his life. It takes some coaxing from Kouki’s behalf, reassurances spilling from his lips one after another until Seijuurou finally relaxes enough but is still somewhat tense and guarded, before he finally manages to confess.

“It’s okay,” Kouki says, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his temple. “It’s okay, Seijuurou, it’s okay. I’m not going to leave you.” A kiss to his forehead. “I love you. No matter what.” He continues to lay butterfly kisses until Seijuurou falls asleep to gentle touches and warm arms.

The topic of sex doesn’t come up again after that, but Seijuurou is not oblivious. He is aware Kouki sometimes gets up from their shared bed during the middle of the night (they moved in together in their fourth year), and in the deafening silence of their apartment his lover’s moans and groans resonate through the walls loud and clear. Seijuurou pulls his pillow over his head, hoping to drown out his lover’s pleasure to no avail.

This goes on for three months before Seijuurou demands, “Let’s have sex.”

Naturally, Kouki is flabbergasted and can only repeat stupidly, “What? Why? What’s going on?”

Seijuurou sighs. Stalking towards his lover, he says, “I want to please you, Kouki.” He wants to shower his lover in all the affection and attention he deserves, to treasure Kouki like the other does him. When his lover weakly stutters out that he doesn’t need to, Seijuurou cuts in, sharply, “I don’t need to, but I want to. Will you let me, Kouki?” At Kouki’s still evident hesitance, his tone softens. “Please?”

And Kouki simply cannot deny his lover when he’s notably trying so hard to please him despite his obvious discomfort, so he takes a step closer and wraps his arms around Seijuurou. “If you’d allow me the honour,” he murmurs into the crevice of Seijuurou’s neck.

Their first time is awkward and not exactly the most pleasurable, but Seijuurou decides the process is worth it; he’s never seen Kouki look so content.

Except, to Kouki’s surprise (and probably Seijuurou’s own), what was sex-every-once-in-a-while turns into sex-many-times-a-week. After their first time, they had agreed to only have sex whenever Seijuurou felt comfortable to do so. This often happened once every three or four weeks, but with each connection between the two of them a fire seemed to grow within Seijuurou. Before they both knew it, they were having sex weekly. Then, weekly turned to every few days.

They’re having more sex than Seijuurou ever imagined he would in his life. He’s still not interested in sex, nor does he need it, but his lover appears to think otherwise.

“I think you’ve become a sex-addict,” Kouki says blearily through his exhaustion. They’ve just finished their third round for the night. Not that he’s complaining; sex with Seijuurou is good.  _More than good._

Seijuurou responds with a small, secretive smile.

He doesn’t tell Kouki that he’s wrong—doesn’t tell him that it’s not the sex he’s addicted to but rather the way Kouki’s eyelids slide half closed as the pleasure gets too much for him, a symphony of melodic moans and breathless gasps of his name escaping those plush lips one after another, arms trembling as they clutch onto Seijuurou’s back and legs shakily wrapping around his hips in a poor attempt to grasp onto any form of remaining sanity. He doesn’t tell Kouki any of this, for surely his lover will overheat into a flustered mess from a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.

Then again, Seijuurou supposes, that, too, would be a wonderful sight to behold.


	14. distance;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seijuurou is the last of them to go, bowing deeply before him and uttering well-manneredly, almost submissively, but kouki can detect the well concealed slyness in their tone, “i hope you enjoyed the dance, my lord.”

Kouki watches in awe and admiration as the red haired beauty twists and turns, the flaps of their robe chasing after them elegantly, teasingly. When those lids gently flutter open to reveal the most gorgeous of rubies, Kouki’s breath catches in his throat and he resists the urge to reach out and simply touch (oh how badly he wishes to do so).

The dancer appears to see through his struggles easily, a hint of amusement flittering across those jewels momentarily before they take off with more enthusiasm as opposed to before. Slivers of skin peek out from the gaps of their robe with each movement, as if daring Kouki to make his move.

Dancing around the room, the beauty watches him with half-lidded eyes. When the redhead makes it back to him, Kouki swallows with difficulty and shakily reaches out. The dancer easily twists around, not breaking the flow of their mesmerising dance, swerving pass once again - but those rubies continue to watch him, provoking him, as if telling him to catch them.

Kouki hesitantly steps onto the stage when the dancer glides pass him once more, following around blindly as he chases after them but only managing to graze the edges of their fluttering robe with the tips of his fingers. Each time Kouki gets anywhere close to firmly grabbing onto the material, the redhead would do an intricate twist that leaves him frozen in entrancement, the elegance and skilfulness of the act taking his breath and thoughts away, before dancing away again.

Before he is aware of it, the music slowly fades out and the musicians are packing up their instruments, backing away and leaving the room. The dancer is the last of them to go, bowing deeply before him and uttering well-manneredly, almost submissively, but Kouki can detect the well concealed slyness in their tone, “I hope you enjoyed the dance, My Lord.”

Then, they turn around without waiting for his reply, following their co-workers out of the room, leaving him frustrated and pining. In any other situation, the dancer’s behaviour would have been viewed as insolent, but Kouki cannot force any words out of his lips for the life of him. They turn back to him right before the doors close with a soft thud, an almost gentle smile on their lips but Kouki was not fooled; it was anything but innocent, screaming entirely of the opposite, devious and almost cruel.

“Farewell, My Lord.”

The resounding click of the doors shutting echoes the unexpected loss he feels deeply in his heart.

Kouki does not sleep well for many years to come. Every night he dreams of red hair, sly smiles, gorgeous rubies under fluttering, long lashes and silken robes.

When the beautiful dancer from years ago appears before him once again, offering to entertain him once more, this time, Kouki is more than determined to keep them by his side.


	15. name;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it stung watching his self-proclaimed older brother and furihata be so loving towards each other, yet not being able to be a part of it.

It was frustrating how Furihata would still slightly tremble in his presence. His self-proclaimed older brother and Furihata had been dating for more than a year, but he himself had rarely made himself known. He was aware of everything they did together, and was reluctant to admit but he too had fallen for Furihata Kouki at some point.

He supposed it was due to the other’s free-spirited nature, so different to the Akashi’s own restrained and calculated actions. Whenever his other self began accumulating stress, the nagging thought of having to do better, _must_ be better, slowly overwhelming him, Furihata was there to relieve him before he succumbed to the pressure once more.  For this reason, he had never felt a need to go out and replace his brother; he’d be fine from now on as long as Furihata was by his side.

This did not stop him from _wanting_ to make an appearance though. It hurt to always watch the two be so loving towards each other, yet not being able to be a part of it. It didn’t help that Furihata always seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

“Give him time,” his counterpart said. “Kouki is simply not accustomed to your presence yet.”

The self-proclaimed older brother had then suggested he made more frequent appearances from now on, so Furihata could adjust to him. It was manageable at first, having foreseen that the first few encounters would not proceed well, but after ten visits he’d expected Furihata to have already been used to him.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Perhaps he just had to grudgingly accept that it was his loss, that despite everything he did and could do Furihata would not accept him regardless, that he would not embrace him with the same loving warmth he showered his older brother in.

One last time, he thought as he held Furihata in his arms, he’d disappear after this last precious moment with his beloved. As expected, Furihata was tense in his arms and stuttered whenever he made small talk as they lied wide awake in bed. Sighing, he loosened his hold on his lover (could Furihata really be called that when only he thought that way of the other?) and closed his eyes, gently relaxing all his muscles and evening his breaths.

“Akashi-san?” Furihata timidly called out after the silence prolonged for a few moments too long.

When he got no response, Furihata twisted around in Akashi’s embrace and scooted closer to peer at the redhead below him. The corners of his lips turned downwards when he noticed the small lines of wrinkles and furrowed brows in Akashi’s sleep, as opposed to his usually relaxed expression when he slept. Akashi always looked most comfortable when he was sleeping, where nothing in the world could possibly pull him down, so for such flaws to have marred that beautiful sleeping face… Furihata suddenly felt extremely guilty. It was _his_ fault.

Inching closer, he gently kissed each furrow away, watching as Akashi slowly relaxed in his sleep. “Good night, Seijuurou-san,” he whispered against Akashi’s lips, closing the remaining distance with a chaste kiss, but it held all the emotions and thoughts he could never tell the redhead – _this_ Akashi – in person.

Akashi waited until sleep took Furihata before finally opening his eyes. He allowed the blush to slowly creep up now that his lover was asleep. Honestly, he was only pretending to be sleeping in hopes that it would calm the brunet, but the end result was so much more than he had ever hoped for. It was difficult to contain himself when he felt the gentle kisses against his skin. Oh, how he wished to open his eyes at that moment to see what expression Furihata wore as he poured out his love, but he knew that if he had woken at that time his lover would have most likely reverted back to his nervous self.

“What did I tell you,” an almost smug voice resounded clearly in his mind.

He easily admitted defeat this time, too elated by the fact Furihata did not shun him to argue with his brother.

“Patience,” his counterpart said. “You just need to be patient, _Seijuurou-san_.”

The way his brother said his name was clearly teasing, but it only brought a small smile to his face. The reminder that Furihata had used his name instead of the more formal and distant ‘Akashi-san’ that he usually used in his wake, caused another slight flush of pink to form on his cheeks.

“Quiet, Sei,” he replied with the same teasing tone, using Furihata’s nickname for his other self. “Now sleep.”

His brother’s chuckles echoed loudly in his mind before disappearing and he was once again left to his own thoughts.

Pushing back stray brown locks, he observed the small smile that blossomed on that adorable face when he stroke Furihata’s cheek. Ah, it was no good after all. He had fallen too far down, too deeply, and there was no getting back up, but he found he didn’t quite mind being stuck in this place. He loved Furihata Kouki with every fibre of his being and he (and his brother) couldn’t, wouldn’t ever want to stop.

As expected, the next time he appeared, Furihata was nervous around him once again and had switched back to referring to him as ‘Akashi-san’. This time, however, he didn’t feel the painful stab of a dagger plunging through and tearing at his heart. He was aware Furihata was advancing in his own way, in his own little steps.

Patience, his brother’s words resonated in his heart. He just needed to be patient.


	16. orange;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they were kicked out of the cafe for their explicit display of affections, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

Furihata's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He couldn't deny the excitement coursing through him, slowly overtaking the nervousness he felt.

Valentine's Day.

His heart beat quickened as he recalled the date.

The brunet had been preparing for this day since his last Valentine's. In the previous year, he had spent it with Akashi, his lover. Furihata had given him store-bought heart-shaped milk chocolates, but soon realised Akashi wasn't too fond of sweet things. Thus, he was determined to make this year's Valentine's a success!

Throughout the year, he’d experimented with many different chocolate recipes with the help of Murasakibara, his unlikely friend (but somehow they’d managed to hit it off). As the Miracle was well acquainted with sweets, Furihata often asked for his input on what not-so-sweet ingredients matched well with chocolate.

And, finally— _finally_ , looking down at the brown box in his hands, a red ribbon with white lace lining its edges tied around it, he was proud to say he had managed the feat.

He couldn’t wait to see Akashi’s reaction.

Furihata looked up when the announcement signalled his stop, eagerly standing up from his seat and following the other passengers with a bounce in his steps as they filed out of the train. He immediately spotted the mop of red hair in the not so far distance, not even surprised when the owner of that fiery mane was already on his way towards him.

It always made his stomach squirm uncomfortably, his heart fluttering with delight and happiness; the fact that Akashi could always instantaneously spot him in the humongous crowds of ordinary people.

“Kouki,” Akashi greeted, a small, fond smile already on his lips, red eyes tender as he gazed lovingly at his beloved.

Furihata flushed lightly, a grin stretching across his face. It had been a while since they last saw each other, and he couldn’t deny how much he loved being under the other’s attention.

“Hey, Sei.”

There were no other words spoken as their hands fitted together like second nature. Once they were finally out of the station and away from prying eyes, situating themselves in a secluded corner of a close-by cafe, did Furihata lean in to place a chaste kiss on Akashi’s cheek. His lover returned the affection in kind.

They talked about many things, from what they’d been up to recently, to elaborating further on the texts they’ve sent, to meaningless chatter that meant so much more when in each other’s presence.

Furihata did not miss the way those rubies occasionally darted towards the brown box he had conveniently placed towards the side of the table.

“I,” Furihata started, voice an octave louder than he would have liked. He fidgeted under the stares of the other customers, waiting for them to go back to their own business before he continued, much softer this time: “I have something to give you.”

He was reluctant to admit, but he too was growing a little impatient. He wanted to see Akashi’s reaction already!

And Akashi did not disappoint: shoulders pulled back and back straightened, fingers locked together and settled on their owner’s lap. It was almost the posture of a well-groomed businessman ready for their next conquest, but the twinkle of childish excitement in those clear rubies had Furihata’s heart melting.

“Here.”

The brunet pushed the box towards Akashi, suddenly more bashful under the intensity of the latter’s stare. He watched with his heart thumping loudly in his chest as the redhead pulled apart the ribbon and carefully opened the box, a gorgeous smile blooming on that absolutely handsome face stealing Furihata’s breath away.

“Home-made this time?” Akashi asked, already knowing the answer.

Furihata nodded stiffly, blush eternally painted on his cheeks as Akashi did not relent in his tender gaze.

“It might not taste as good since it’s been a few hours though...”

“Nonsense,” Akashi harrumphed. “Anything you make tastes wonderful. It makes me happier to know you woke up extra early to make these for me.”

And Furihata did. With the three hour train ride to take into consideration, if he hadn’t done so he would have wasted most of their precious morning away. He would rather lose an extra two hours of sleep than lose their rare, treasured time together.

“May I eat them now?”

Furihata squeaked out an affirmative, waiting with bated breath as his lover bit into the muffin.

“It’s...” The pause had the brunet biting his bottom lip in worry. Was it not to Akashi’s liking? Was it perhaps still too sweet?

“Delicious,” Akashi finished, eyes wide with wonder as he stared, stunned, at the muffin in his hands. It wasn’t too sweet, instead leaving a tangy aftertaste the more he chewed. The softness of the muffin, sweetness of the chocolate and the right amount of sour gave it the perfect blend.

Furihata let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, relieved Akashi truly liked it as he continued to dig in.

Noticing the small bits of light orange in the muffin, Akashi asked, “Did you perhaps put in orange?”

His lover nodded excitedly, all nervousness gone as he watched Akashi enjoy his gift.

“Yep! I noticed last year’s chocolates were too sweet for you.” Furihata laughed heartily at the tiny frown that adorned his companion’s lips, probably a little upset at himself for giving himself away. “So I asked for Murasakibara’s opinion and we decided orange choc-chip muffins would be perfect for you!”

Akashi nodded, expression pensive. “I must thank Murasakibara, then.”

He then reached out to gently clasp Furihata’s hand in both of his own, thumbs stroking the back of his hand with such tenderness it made the latter want to proclaim his never-ending love for the former over and over again. (Maybe later, when they’re alone in the privacy of Akashi’s room.)

With lips stretched out and a little teeth showing, eyes gleaming with a spiral of emotions, Akashi said, “Thank you, Kouki.”

And that was enough to push Furihata over the edge; rarely did Akashi ever smile so widely and with so much emotion. Standing up and reaching for Akashi’s cheek with one hand, the other raised the menu to cover their faces as Furihata leaned in to kiss his lover softly on the lips. He pulled back after a brief moment, immediately plopping back down on his seat, and looked up at Akashi from under his lashes, too embarrassed from his spontaneous action to face him fully.

Akashi was left frozen in his seat as he took that moment to process what had just happened, before another affectionate smile graced his pretty face, reaching over and kissing the brunet fully on the lips, followed by another, and another... and another.

A cough to their side finally had them parting and they turned to make contact with a red-faced waitress, from embarrassment or anger Furihata didn’t know. They were kicked out of the cafe for their explicit display of affections, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

All that mattered was the happiness that radiated from every fibre of Akashi’s being as they walked around Kyoto, their hands held tightly together as if they were each other’s life line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finished up this ficlet i started a year and a half ago lol just on time for valentine's


End file.
